08-28-2004, 01:32 AM
The thing about my cat is that I think a better word than 'yell' would be bark, sometimes I wonder if she was a dog in a previous life or something. Anyway that's just how she is, the other cat though is the weird one.
He's my other cat's son and he's the kind of furball where you turn to someone and swear "I tell ya the boy ain't right." He looks like a housecat sized black panther in everything but ear shape, mews like a month old kitten (he's 12) and apparently his life's ambition is to get everyone to sit as close a sardine's in a can and then try to wedge himself in between them.
We have to keep the cats in me and my brother's room because one of our dogs (a chow) would kill 'em as soon as look at 'em. Luckily he's mostly deaf so he doesn't hear the "barking cat," (Tasha.) Anyway my brother and I spend most of our free time in our room avoiding the rest of the family and sit on the edge of my bed when we watch TV or play games and without fail Tailor (panther cat) will come over and sit between us and continually headbutt us if we even stop petting him for five seconds. I love the fuzzballs but they drive me nuts. Although I'm sure most of you with pets understand that.
Oh and Unknown, It's not a problem that they don't like the bread heels it's what they do with them. My aunt, grandmother and cousin take the heels out of the bag and put them in another bag then shove it in the back of the fridge. On more than one occasion I've pulled out a ziploc baggy with an award winning mold farm. (which they'd continue to fill with more bread if I didn't trash it.) I just wish they'd tell me about the heel so I could just toast it, butter it and eat it right then so I could avoid the other outcome.
He's my other cat's son and he's the kind of furball where you turn to someone and swear "I tell ya the boy ain't right." He looks like a housecat sized black panther in everything but ear shape, mews like a month old kitten (he's 12) and apparently his life's ambition is to get everyone to sit as close a sardine's in a can and then try to wedge himself in between them.
We have to keep the cats in me and my brother's room because one of our dogs (a chow) would kill 'em as soon as look at 'em. Luckily he's mostly deaf so he doesn't hear the "barking cat," (Tasha.) Anyway my brother and I spend most of our free time in our room avoiding the rest of the family and sit on the edge of my bed when we watch TV or play games and without fail Tailor (panther cat) will come over and sit between us and continually headbutt us if we even stop petting him for five seconds. I love the fuzzballs but they drive me nuts. Although I'm sure most of you with pets understand that.
Oh and Unknown, It's not a problem that they don't like the bread heels it's what they do with them. My aunt, grandmother and cousin take the heels out of the bag and put them in another bag then shove it in the back of the fridge. On more than one occasion I've pulled out a ziploc baggy with an award winning mold farm. (which they'd continue to fill with more bread if I didn't trash it.) I just wish they'd tell me about the heel so I could just toast it, butter it and eat it right then so I could avoid the other outcome.